Mass Effect: The Four Seasons
by Ladyamesindy
Summary: The war has ended. The Reapers are destroyed. But some cycles are never broken.
1. Prologue

_"Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence._  
_Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance._  
_Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence._  
_Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance." _

_ - Yoko Ono_

* * *

"Don't … leave me behind." Until they were spoken, Kaidan hadn't realized he'd even been thinking the words. But that aside, he knew them to be true. The last time, on Horizon, he'd left her behind. Harsh words and accusations between them, walls that had taken an inordinate amount of time to bring down. But they had finally. And once they had, he'd promised to always have her back, to be there for her when she needed it most. But fate apparently had other ideas.

She had to have know what this was doing to him. He could see it by the look in her chocolate brown eyes. Stepping towards him, hand lifting to touch his cheek as she told him quietly, "No matter what happens, Kaidan, … know that I love you. Always."

Kaidan leaned heavily on James as the lieutenant held him steady and upright, no thanks to the hip injuries he'd received, and yet he could only stare at her as her words echoed between them. Shepard was moving backwards now, still facing towards him but descending off the ramp of the Normandy. Belatedly, Kaidan tried to reach for her, even attempting to lean out towards her, but James held him back. He mouthed her name, knew she saw it by the flare of recognition in her eyes, and she gave him a warm smile. "Go," she told him earnestly. Then with a bit more force behind it, she shouted it again.

"Be safe," he called after her as the ramp lifted, finally closing and separating them.

Once the door was shut, James began leading Kaidan away. "C'mon, major. We need to get you up to the doc."

And though Kaidan tried to focus on taking individual steps, on assisting James as much as he could so he wasn't a complete deadweight, his heart and mind were clearly not there at the moment. Every shift, each rumble and thrum rattling through the hull of the ship reminded Kaidan that Shepard had been left behind, and of the promise he'd not been able to keep ….


	2. Spring

_Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence._

* * *

It had taken them seven full months to return to Earth. Over half a year. All in all, for a ship that had been flung across the galaxy to god only knew where, it hadn't been that long. The first two months alone had been spent repairing the Normandy enough to make it space worthy. The last five had been for the journey itself. During that entire time, there had been no word, no outside communications, no contact to or from Earth. Or anywhere else, for that matter. The first they'd known for certain of the Reaper defeat had been some three months before their arrival home, as they'd passed the remnants of one of the large Reaper ships above one of the worlds the enemy had once had occupied. The communications systems on board had been destroyed during the crash, though by the time they'd arrived home to Earth, a rudimentary enough system had been jury-rigged so that they could at least identify themselves when contacting Allied Command. Would have been bad for morale to finally make it home, only to be shot down by friendlies. Morse code had never been such a valuable tool as it was then.

Upon arrival the Normandy had hobbled like a crippled soldier into the dockyard, but everyone on board had been warmly welcomed … and then sent straight into quarantine together at the same hospital under the theory that the best support during this time would come from their fellow crew members. Repeated medical and psych exams, whatever treatment needed for those who required it, and even some who might have argued they didn't, but all were provided for with great attention and care. Slow integration back into a world that had changed so much in their more than half-year absence followed. Heavily censored news was fed to them in pieces, to give them time to come to grips with what actually had happened at the very end. Selected vids, magazines, even newspapers were brought in for them to watch and learn. Individual requests for information were gathered, processed, and what little information could be found was delivered in the hopes that, even if they could not yet see family members, the knowledge of their survival (or not) would go a long way towards assisting with the healing process.

All that aside, however, Major Kaidan Alenko knew when he was being stonewalled. And in this case, he didn't believe it was simply to 'help him adjust' to his surroundings. Since his return to Earth, Kaidan had made three requests for information. First and foremost had been his father who the last Kaidan had heard had been listed as MIA and presumed dead. Almost a year had passed since then and there'd been the outside hope for good news, but unfortunately, nothing positive was offered on this front. The former Alliance soldier was still listed MIA and presumed dead. And while it still stung to hear repeated at such a late date, Kaidan had already accepted the fact that his father was indeed gone. All he would have remaining would be the memories.

The major's second request, submitted at the same time as the first, had sought out information on his mother, alone and living on the family orchard in the BC interior the last he'd heard. Here the reports coming back to him were more encouraging. Kaidan was assured she was safe, having been assisted by neighbors and others at the end in order to keep safe, still taking it one day at a time out on the orchard these days, but she had survived and continued to do so. During the last days of the war, she had sought refuge with some of the neighbors, but since the final destruction of the Reapers she had returned to the orchard where she still resided.

It was his third and, to his way of thinking, most important request regarding the whereabouts of Commander Shepard, that Kaidan was running into roadblocks. No one he spoke to within the Systems Alliance ever seemed to be able to assist him in his inquiry. The most he'd gotten out of one was 'status unknown.' Kaidan reached out to old contacts, new contacts, hell he even tried asking some of his former biotics students who had survived the conflict if they would try hunting down information. But it was all to no avail. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. No one seemed to know the fate of the galaxy's greatest hero.

Even after the quarantine period had ended and Admiral Hackett came up to visit him in the hospital, even when they were closeted in a sealed room together, no fear of being overheard by anyone else, Kaidan was still told, "Her status at this time is 'unknown' major. I'm sorry."

"How can it be 'unknown,' sir?" Kaidan demanded as he sat wheelchair bound. The injury he'd sustained in that last battle, the damage done to his hip by the Mako that had landed nearly directly on top of him and James, had only recently started procedures for full repair upon his return to Earth. Dr. Chakwas had done her best with limited supplies and equipment at the time, and Kaidan knew well enough that he owed the fact that one day he would be able to walk again thanks to her, but he would still require several reconstructive surgeries to fully fix the damage. He wished he could stand up and face the admiral right now, though. Square off, demand a better response than 'unknown.' But he couldn't.

"The major has a point, admiral."

Which was why Kaidan had asked James to join them. Vega had almost as much invested in his friendship with Shepard as Kaidan did. The younger man, the rest of the Normandy crew even, wanted - _needed_ - to know the truth too. After all they'd been through together, it was the least they deserved, wasn't it? It was for this reason that Kaidan had asked James to join him when speaking with the admiral. Though Kaidan's mobility was limited, James could be more 'in your face' about it when necessary. And it apparently was becoming necessary. Besides, having the soldier engage the admiral gave Kaidan a distinct advantage.

There was a reason Anderson had asked Kaidan to head up the biotics division spec ops group. He was an observer. He always noticed the little details. And now, as he kept his eyes upon the admiral while Hackett responded to Vega, there was no doubt in Kaidan's mind that the man knew more than he was telling. "Lieutenant, there is nothing more I can tell either of you at the moment other than Commander Heather Shepard's status is 'unknown.' Her last known location was aboard the Citadel, per communications between her, Admiral Anderson and Major Coats who overheard it at the time just before losing contact with them."

"Shit, sir," Vega nearly exploded, "didn't you send anyone up there after?"

Kaidan had kept his eyes upon the admiral's at Vega's outburst and saw some sort of emotion flash behind his eyes. Frowning, for now he was fairly certain something was being kept from them, Kaidan lifted a hand to keep the lieutenant in check. "Sir, we're entitled to know, don't you think?" Kaidan asked quietly. And though he could have spouted off any number of personal reasons to the man, of which he was certain the admiral already knew, the only thing he added was, "We fought side by side with her, from start to finish. She is as much a part of our team as we are hers. And you know damned well if she was here right now demanding to know what had happened to one of us, you would be telling her."

"Major, I don't deny that you deserve to know," Hackett replied. "But the fact of the matter is this: until I am told otherwise, her status remains 'unknown.'" Moments later, he was gone, leaving Kaidan and James alone in the room.

"_Mierda!_ Wish Anderson was still here," James muttered, turning to stare out a nearby window. "He'd have given us a straight answer."

Kaidan sighed. That he wasn't so certain of. While Anderson and Shepard had been very close (the man had been almost like a second father to her since she joined the Alliance), he'd still been a stickler for the regs at certain times. But it was a moot point anyway. One of those pieces of information they'd received had announced that Anderson was gone. And from what Hackett had just told them, Anderson and Shepard had been up on the Citadel together at the end. If Anderson had died and Shepard's fate was 'unknown' … did that mean Shepard's fate was the same?

Suddenly feeling very tired, Kaidan's shoulders visibly sagged as he sat in his wheelchair. Sighing, he ran his hands over his face. He was tired in as many ways as a person could be - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He'd hoped for so much for so long … only to come back to answers that were at the best incomplete, and at the worst the political doublespeak to cover for something he wasn't certain of. "James?"

Vega turned back to face the major, hearing the weariness in the man's voice. "Come on, major," he told him while moving behind the chair, pushing him towards the door, "let's get you back to your room." He might not have Shepard to watch out for just then, but he could watch out for Kaidan. Keeping the major on a path towards wellness again would have been something Shepard would have wanted him to do.

* * *

Four months and two surgeries later, Kaidan stood at the window of the Vancouver hospital staring out at the grounds below. Today was the day. He was leaving - leaving the hospital, leaving the Alliance, leaving the only life he'd known for the past fourteen years. The severity of his injuries aside, he just didn't have that much left to give the Alliance anymore. Hackett had tried to talk him out of it, assuring him that he could return to his position in biotics division if that was what he wished, or whatever other position he might desire to take up, but Kaidan had refused. It was time to head home. He'd heard from his mother several times during his lengthy stay in the hospitals, but he'd yet to see her. For reasons he could understand all too easily, she'd refused to come back to Vancouver, preferring to remember the city the way it had once been; vibrant, whole and full of life. The fact that his father had been killed in action during the war was a part of it as well, he guessed. Certainly the same would be true for him, though in regards to Shepard. By the end of the war, they had started making hesitant plans to return here, to find a way to make a home here while still serving the Alliance. But now ….

"Ready to fly this coop, major?"

Leaning heavily on the crutches he was still dependent upon for the time being, Kaidan turned on his good leg and faced James. Everyone who had served aboard the Normandy had been given an extended shore leave. James, for reasons the major still wasn't certain of, had decided to spend his around Kaidan. He'd challenged the younger man on this, of course, but Vega had sworn this was where he wanted to be. "Hey, man … talked with my uncle, so I know he's alright. Couple of cousins too. If I'm needed, they'll let me know. Right now, you need me more." It was a rather humbling experience, Kaidan thought, but one that was not unappreciated.

"Car's down front," Vega told him now as he hefted Kaidan's bag over his shoulder. He waited patiently for Kaidan to make his way across the room and out the doorway. "Figure we'll make it out of the city before the end of day madness and should be at the orchard by dinnertime."

Kaidan lifted a brow in slight amusement. They'd been planning this 'escape' from the hospital for weeks now, but travel time still would take them several hours to get to the BC interior where the orchard was located. "Just how fast are you planning on driving, lieutenant?" he teased.

James chuckled. "Fine, fine … _late_ dinnertime. I'll get us there in one piece, major, don't you worry. Commander'd have my hide if I didn't."

It was interesting, Kaidan thought as he followed Vega through the halls to the elevator. Between the two of them, neither had accepted the fact that Shepard's continued absence was anything other than that: an absence. Whereas the military seemed to be writing her off as gone (and there was no doubt in either man's mind that was indeed how the Alliance was treating it), both had come to some sort of silent agreement that until it was specifically stated that she had died, they would not accept it. With that in mind, they still referred to her in the present on the rare occasions that they referred to her. They might _think_ she was still alive, but talking about her did still hurt, so they limited that as well.

The trip out of Vancouver was uneventful, thankfully. Though uncomfortable sitting in the vehicle for that long (the doctor had told him that it would still take months for his body to fully recover from the injury and the surgeries to mend it), Kaidan was grateful to be out of the hospital. He was looking forward to being at the orchard, to seeing his mother, to being able to _breathe_ for the first time in a very long time. Even though he knew he would not be complete. James was coming to help him get settled, to help his mom a bit around the orchard as she might need him, at least through the rest of his leave and a time when Kaidan might be of more use to her. Again when Kaidan had challenged the younger man on this, Vega had just shrugged. "I still have two weeks leave to do what I want," he'd reminded Kaidan.

"Then what?"

The smile that crossed James' face then was slightly wistful. "Then I go keep a promise I made to Lola."

It was enough for Kaidan to understand. Shepard had told him that Vega had been recommended to N7 training. And to be truthful, Kaidan couldn't imagine anyone else more qualified for it at this point. Like most of the rest of the Systems Alliance military, the N7 were having to replenish their numbers after the war.

Night was beginning to fall when they finally arrived, pulling to a stop near the main house. Kaidan, despite pain and exhaustion, could feel a certain energy flowing through him then. And it wasn't simply his biotics. No, this was something he'd always experienced whenever returning for a visit to the family orchard. It was a sense of coming home.

It took some maneuvering, but he managed to work his way out of the vehicle and onto his crutches just before his mother stepped outside to greet them. "Kaidan!"

Kaidan felt the relief in his smile. It was one thing to hear her voice, to have her tell him that she was alright and well. It was something completely different to see it for himself, in person. Hugging her tightly in return, he murmured tightly, "Hey, mom."

Their reunion outside was brief as the temperatures kept falling with the lack of sunlight, so they quickly moved inside. James was introduced, and within a short while, their luggage had been deposited in appropriate rooms and the two men found themselves in the kitchen. Kaidan protested when his mother banished him to sit at the table, though she seemed quite pleased with James' offer to help. "You cook?" She surveyed him with a critical eye.

James chuckled. "I sure do, ma'am," he replied. "Mostly recipes from my _abuela_, but I've picked up a thing or two on my own over the years."

That was more than enough for Kaidan's mother. "Good. Then you come help me over here," she gestured towards the counter as she set aside vegetables and other ingredients and quickly outlined what she wanted accomplished. Turning back towards her son, she pointed at him vaguely with the knife she held in hand and told him, "You, on the other hand, get talking. I want to hear all about it."

James shared a quick look with Kaidan over the older man's mother's head. It wasn't concern, really, though Kaidan thought he could see that too, but more a question of whether or not Kaidan was up to the challenge. Sighing, Kaidan nodded. "Alright," he agreed, watching James turn back to assisting his mother. "Where do you want me to begin?"

Since the last she'd heard from him in any detail had been during his stint teaching the biotics, she had him begin right afterwards, which ultimately was the day of the Reaper attack. Throughout the evening, he and James both told of their escape from Earth. Of what they had found on Mars. Kaidan hurried through his hospital stay on the Citadel, not wanting to worry her more than he had to, but she simply turned towards James when she wanted more details. The lieutenant was apparently more than willing to comply. The end result being that all it took was a side glance from Kaidan's mother to convince James to start tossing in more of his own commentary later on.

It was late when they finally called it a night. Or, at least James did. By that point in time Kaidan was glad to stop with the telling, though they'd only made it about halfway through. But he knew they would continue on, either the next day or the day after that. The great thing about his mother was that she didn't push. She might encourage them along in matters, but she understood well enough the life of a soldier and she would not push for more than they were willing to give.

Kaidan remained at the table with her for a short while after James left, though. And while a lot of it had more to do with his concern about her and how she was faring without his father around, he sensed that she could understand more than he was willing to tell just then. Reaching out, she touched his hand, wrapping hers around his. "It's good to have you home, son," she told him.

Kaidan smiled. "It's good to be home, mom," he replied. And for now, that was enough. The rest would sort itself out over time.

* * *

It amazed Kaidan just how much James and his mother seemed to bond during the two weeks the younger man was around. When the time came for him to pack his things and prepare to head back to Vancouver, it did not come as any surprise that Mrs. Alenko was offering Vega a place to visit on his next leave. "I might just do that, ma'am," he returned with a grin.

She winked at him and patted his cheek after he gave her a hug. "Just don't be forgetting those recipes you owe me. Maybe next time you won't go off half-cocked into a Skillian Five game, hmm?"

Kaidan nearly choked as Vega looked over towards him, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. It had startled both men that Kaidan's mother had known how to play Skillian Five, let alone was such a good player. "I keep my promises," James assured her. "I will have them in hand."

She smiled and nodded. "Good." Then leaning up just a bit, she kissed his cheek. "Be safe, James."

By the time the light flush in James' cheeks had faded, she had returned indoors. Turning towards Kaidan, he extended his hand. "Thanks, major," he told Kaidan.

Kaidan rolled his eyes. "When are you going to stop calling me that?" he asked. "I'm no longer -"

"I know, I know," James assured him. "But I have this rep, y'see? Shepard warned me about Rio, about ICT. I need to break some older habits and replace them before I get there."

Kaidan nodded while taking James' hand and shaking it firmly. He was still leaning on his crutches, but he was certainly able to move around better than he had been to this point. "Thank you, James. For everything." And included in that statement Kaidan referred to the times James had watched out for Shepard when he'd not been there.

The cocky smile usually present on the lieutenant's lips returned for a moment. "Hey, man, you bet. And, y'know … if you hear anything …"

Kaidan nodded. "You'll be the first one I contact."

James nodded. "Thanks." Turning, he set his bag inside the car. Fishing the keys out of his pocket, he walked around to the other side. "_Adiós_, Kaidan."

"Goodbye, James." Standing on the drive, Kaidan watched the younger man pull away, his eyes following the trail of dust down the long drive. Suddenly, the world around him seemed to be much emptier than it had been. Kaidan didn't think it was so much the younger man's presence and personality (and boy, did he have personality to spare!) as it was that they shared in the same loss. Truthfully, had Shepard been there, James' departure might not have been such a tangible thing. But with him and Shepard gone … Kaidan was left feeling very alone.


	3. Summer

_Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance._

* * *

Even before the final assault against the Reapers had begun, Miranda had been involved, thinking and planning ahead. Knowing who was leading the charge, it didn't take incredible leaps of logic to determine the worst possible outcomes. Starting with an email followed shortly thereafter by a personal text and eventually a private vid chat between herself and Admiral Hackett, she started the process rolling. And he was finding out the hard way that when she got a plan in her head, she refused to take no for an answer. And considering the topic …

"Look, Ms. Lawson -"

"No admiral," Miranda insisted firmly. "Trust me. There is no one who will know better how to treat her, no matter what the injury, than myself. I led the project that brought her back before. You _will_ need me."

"If it comes to that."

Miranda nodded, biting back a smile as she realized she'd won. And with so little effort. "Yes, though I think we both know that it would take a bloody miracle for her to come out of this unscathed."

Reluctantly, Hackett gave in. "If, and that is a very large 'if', Ms. Lawson," he warned, "but if it comes down to it, I will call you in personally."

Miranda sighed in relief but did not let it show. "Thank you, admiral."

Before disconnecting, Hackett spoke once more. "I have to ask though. Why?"

Miranda stared at him for a long moment and simply replied, "I owe her that much."

* * *

The room was dimly lit for a reason, though natural sunlight did peek in through the curtains during the daylight hours. With the hope that consciousness would be regained at some point in time, they didn't want the room to be too bright for eyes that had been closed for so long.

But with each passing day, Miranda's fear of a worst case scenario ending increased. It had been seven months since she'd received the call from Admiral Hackett. Seven months since the destruction of the Reapers and the hope for a safer more peaceful galaxy had been returned to the hands of the survivors. Hope that had been given to them by Shepard.

By the time a rescue team had found her body; battered, broken and barely breathing, two days had already passed. Miranda, however, had been ready for the call. Admiral Hackett had given her access to a secret Alliance facility in the mountains just outside of Denver. A place once used by recuperating PTSD patients, it had been cleared of everyone except those essential for this project. A project with a singular purpose: the recovery and rehabilitation of Commander Heather Shepard.

Though not a part of the recovery team herself, Miranda had been on the shuttle sent in to extract Shepard's body from the Citadel after the destruction of the Reapers. While her hand-picked medical team worked furiously to stabilize the severely injured commander during the extraction and relocation process, Miranda herself began evaluating, analyzing, prioritizing. By the time they arrived at the facility in Colorado, Miranda had her own battle plan in place and Shepard's vital signs had been stabilized enough to move on directly into surgery - and not a moment too soon.

The initial surgery took almost a day and a half in itself. Internal bleeding. Ruptured spleen. Lacerated liver. Too many broken bones to count. Numerous transfusions. And more. How she had survived at all was a mystery in itself according to the nursing staff, but Miranda knew better. The cybernetics had worked flawlessly, keeping her alive until help could arrive. _Lazarus_ was still fighting for her life.

As the months followed, slow progress was made. Small milestones were reached. Wounds healed up. Scars began to fade. But the one thing that became a daily hope for everyone involved with the project was to have her wake up. Until such a time, they could not, they _would_ not present to the world a false hope that their savior yet lived.

Occasionally, she spoke, but even then the hoarse rasps were only one of two words. The first had been, predictably, _Normandy_. Not surprising really, given how much of her life had revolved around that ship over the last few years. In one way, shape or form it had been her home since the beginning of the road leading all the way to the culmination just months ago.

But it was the second word , another name, one spoken more often than the other even and with such an emotional charge to it that told Miranda more than anything that her efforts to keep Shepard alive were on the right path.

"Kaidan."

Seated beside the bed, book in hand, Miranda glanced over towards Shepard, her eyes automatically checking where each machine attached, noting every sound and identifying the meaning behind each. When she reached Shepard's face, Miranda paused, a softer expression passing over her features for a moment. A fondness, perhaps, though many might not even recognize the change if they were to look at her. Seven months on, numerous surgeries, and still Shepard remained in a coma. There was no medical explanation for the condition that Miranda or her medical team could find, and yet Shepard continued to sleep. If forced to admit it, Miranda might have to say that this was beginning to worry her some.

She'd just turned back to her book, shifting subtly into a more comfortable position as she did so, when she heard the soft voice speaking once again. "Kaidan …."

Miranda blinked. Never had Shepard in all her murmurings followed up so quickly with another. Shifting in her seat and leaning towards her now, Miranda called softly, "Shepard? Can you hear me?" These were the usual questions Miranda asked whenever Shepard spoke. Of course she never answered them, but protocols were protocols and -

"M-miri …?"

The book fell from her hands to the floor as Miranda rose to her feet. Moving to lean over Shepard, she pressed the nurse's call button before reaching for the small penlight she always carried with her these days. _Just in case._ "Shepard?" Where Shepard's voice had been soft, hesitant, Miranda's was much sharper, more insistent. "Shepard, can you hear me?" Miranda called again. She reached to lift the woman's eyelids and utilize the penlight in her hand, but before she was able to do this, she noticed Shepard's eyelids fluttering lightly, long dark lashes finally drifting upwards until partially open. "Miri?" Shepard repeated. Her voice was still weak, but it did seem as if she was responding to Miranda specifically. Miranda wanted to shout for joy just then.

"It's alright, Shepard," Miranda assured her, reaching over to dim the bedside lamp a bit more. Reaching down, she pulled one of Shepard's hands, now free of plaster and fibreglass casts, into her own. "You're alright."

A soft sigh partnered with a groan escaped Shepard's lips then. Her tongue darted out, moistening the dried skin there before she managed a hoarse raspy, "Hurts …."

Glancing behind her, Miranda sent the nurse who had just arrived to immediately fetch the team of physicians who were assigned to the case. After this had been done, Miranda leaned over to depress a button on one of the machines. "This will take a few minutes for full effect, Shepard," she warned, "but it will help. Just hold on."

Shepard's eyes opened just a bit further. Chocolate brown eyes found blue and held for a long moment. "No … mechs …?" she finally managed, lips curving upwards just a bit.

It took Miranda a moment, but she soon started chuckling softly. Apparently the severity of Shepard's injuries had not affected her unique sense of humor. Reaching up to lightly press Shepard's hair back from her face, Miranda assured her, "Not this time, Commander. I promise. You're safe here. You've defeated the Reapers and saved the galaxy. Everything is -"

Another groan slipped past Shepard's lips then. Eyes partially closing again, she managed, "Kaidan? The Normandy?"

"Not yet," Miranda replied quietly. "They … they're missing."

Instantly, Miranda realized it had been the wrong thing to say. Pain and despair flashed behind Shepard's eyes before they dropped closed completely, the monitor keeping track of her blood pressure triggered its warning alarm and Miranda thought she could literally see Shepard declining right before her. "Hope, Shepard," Miranda urged, hand tightening around her friend's. "You gave us all hope when we needed it, now you must find it for yourself. They _will_ return. They just need time!"

On some level, Miranda thought she might have reached Shepard, but she could not be certain. Shepard did lapse back into her coma, however, and though the medical team arrived just moments later none of them were able to wake her again. Cursing beneath her breath, Miranda turned and left the room, heeled steps echoing through the halls as she made her way up to the top of the facility. Outside at last, she crossed the roof to stare out at the mountains beyond. It was a place she'd visited often during the past seven months, one where she could find moments of peace and quiet and just a little of that hope she'd spoken to Shepard about.

"Stupid!" she muttered to herself as she stared out into the distance. "How could I be so bloody stupid?!" Deep inside, though, Miranda knew it wasn't so much her decision that bothered her as it was Shepard's reaction. The commander she'd known was a practical woman, able to put things into proper perspective, evaluate and judge situations in a competent and capable manner without letting things like emotions get in her way. What she'd witnessed just a few minutes before was a shell of that woman. Someone who'd finally achieved her goal … but at the expense of the rest of her life and who was too weak at the moment to keep emotional reactions in check. It was difficult for Miranda to see and accept this broken Shepard, to believe that it was the same woman. But she knew it to be true.

Miranda caught a movement to her left then and turned slightly to watch. Off in the distance, she spotted a hawk soaring through the skies. Transfixed for just a moment by the creature's natural beauty and grace, she soon found herself smiling. "Hold on, Shepard," she murmured a moment later as she turned to go back indoors. "We'll get you fixed up soon enough. And even if I have to go find them myself, I'll make sure you know what happened to the Normandy and her crew."

* * *

When next Shepard woke, Miranda was once more waiting beside her. "Hey there, sleepyhead," she teased.

It took Shepard a moment or two to become accustomed to her surroundings, but she did manage to smile up at Miranda. "Miri," she murmured slowly in recognition. A soft sigh. "Did I dream it all?"

Miranda's eyes narrowed in question. "Dream what, Shepard?" she asked carefully. The sudden urge to chew on her lower lip began to make itself known. Which was odd, really, as she'd never done it before in her life.

Brown eyes, still somewhat cloudy with confusion, met blue. "The Reapers. London. The Citadel. The Catalyst …. Everything."

Miranda hesitated. She did not want to lie to Shepard, but given the woman's reaction the last time they'd spoken of related events, she wasn't certain that Shepard was fully ready for the complete truth, either. Pulling her chair closer to Shepard's bed, Miranda took Shepard's hand in hers and used the other to pat the back of it reassuringly. "Why don't you tell me what you think you remember," she suggested. "I can let you know if it's truth or dream."

They sat talking for quite a while that day. Slowly, but ever more surely, Shepard began relating to her friend the events as she recollected them. At times hesitant, uncertain, and other times simply exhausted from the telling, Shepard would stop talking for long moments. The first time it had happened, Miranda had been facing away from her and she'd spun around quickly just to be certain Shepard hadn't fallen back into a comatose state. Nearly always though she found Shepard staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused, thoughts clearly somewhere beyond the here and now.

Always set at her own pace, Shepard's telling took several days. She refused to speak of it to anyone but Miranda, and if she'd been pressed about it, Miranda might have acknowledged a certain thrill mixed with humility at this turn of events. Her relationship with Shepard had begun in a very awkward, stilted sort of manner when they'd been tossed together by the Illusive Man and Cerberus to bring the Collectors to a standstill. However, over time and through shared events, trust had been built to the point that, by the end of the mission, Miranda had felt as if her eyes (and her mind) had been opened in unexpected ways. The real kicker had been Shepard's continued concern and support during the Reaper War, proof that bonds of friendship could be built and maintained between two who had once been on opposing sides. Miranda was grateful to have the opportunity to repay that kindness now.

By the end of her telling, Shepard had started to realize that the majority of what she was remembering were actual events and not just flights of fancy. It brought her a certain sense of relief, because honestly? The idea that she was dreaming up this stuff in some ways frightened her even more. Never had she had such an active imagination in her life.

In response to Shepard's recollections, Miranda began a careful process of response. Certain things were obviously corroborated - attacks against Cerberus, the fall of Earth, Palaven and Thessia, the coup attempt on the Citadel - these sorts of 'events' were in the public record. To deny that they'd occurred would have been outright lies. Yet other things were harder for Miranda to acknowledge. Shepard's relationship with her crew, the closeness she shared with certain friends. It wasn't that Miranda didn't want to admit it at all. Quite the contrary, she'd been delighted to hear about the return of Joker, Garrus, Tali and Liara to the crew. And when she'd seen the way Major Alenko had kept his eyes on Shepard at Sanctuary, well, even Miranda couldn't deny that there was something there.

Yet, looking back over Shepard's recollections, Miranda noticed one gaping hole in the commentary: anything involving personal or emotional connections to the Normandy or any of her crew, particularly her relationship with Kaidan Alenko (which Miranda knew from Shepard herself was more than just close), was missing. The first time it had happened, Miranda had almost missed it. But when it occurred a second time, and then a third, she quickly realized that something was wrong. Where two to three weeks before Shepard had been asking about them, insisting she know their status, begging for some kernel of information, she was now either ignoring her attachment to them or had completely removed herself from that train of thought. Ultimately, after pointing this out to one of the other physicians on the team, Miranda thought she might understand. The strain of the news that the people Shepard held nearest and dearest were missing at that time had apparently been too much for her. A sort of emotional, selective amnesia had apparently settled in. The scientific side of Miranda found this to be intriguing. The friend in her found it to be worrisome and wondered whether it was a permanent thing or not.

How long had the galaxy been relying on this one woman to save them? How many times had they demanded the impossible from her? From the time Miranda had met Shepard, she had known that there were solid reasons the commander desired to have her old crew returned to the Normandy. While she claimed at the time the issue revolved around trust, Miranda also understood it was more than that. While she was out saving the galaxy from extinction, her crew, her _friends_, those closest who knew her best, were also supporting her in return, giving her the needed emotional support so that she could go out there, mission after mission, and do what she needed to do. There were ups and downs of course. Good times, bad times, and everything inbetween. But she had relied upon them as much as they had relied upon her. They were her family. And like many who received unexpected negative news regarding loved ones, Shepard appeared to have reacted similarly.

Again, Miranda cursed, this time at herself. Whether Shepard had actively blocked the memories of these relationships from her mind or simply just 'forgot' them for the time being, Miranda did not know yet. But, she was determined to find out. Commander Heather Shepard was alive. She had a long path to full recovery, but she was alive. And if her body could heal, so could her mind. Miranda would see to that. Personally.

* * *

The months passed quickly from that point forward. The first item on the agenda had been to get Shepard to a point physically where she would be able to get out of bed on her own and simply stand. Physical injuries had healed during the months of her coma, but despite best efforts at physical therapy during that same time, the plain fact of the matter was that she still had a long way to go. Atrophied muscles needed to be retrained. The body, so long lying motionless, needed to relearn movement and agility.

A full time physical therapy team was brought in to assist with Shepard's rehabilitation. Though it still took numerous weeks, Shepard finally did start to see some improvement. First it was standing on her own, barely off the edge of the bed yet still close enough she could land on the softer surface should she fall. Then there were the 'first steps,' to which Miranda teasingly likened her recovery to that of a baby learning to walk for the first time. By all appearances, Shepard hadn't been impressed with the comparison, but Miranda had known better. She'd seen the spark of amusement deep in her brown eyes. On the other hand, Shepard had shown vast improvement in certain reactions that Miranda hadn't quite expected as Miranda ended up with a mouthful of Shepard's pillow moments later. They'd both had a good laugh at that.

Eventually, Shepard managed a few short trips. To the bathroom. To the nurses' station across the hall. From her room to the lobby area by the elevator. Each trip slightly longer than the last, all relying on crutches or a walking device of some sort, but every one of them an important stepping stone to her recovery process. When finally Shepard was able to traverse the hallway, nurse's station to the lobby and then back again, the next phase began.

The physical therapy room was ideally situated. An open and airy sort of room containing large paned windows that opened out to the Rocky Mountains behind it, the vistas offered at any given time of day were truly delightful and certainly assisted with the healing process. One side of the room resembled any normal weight training room so far as equipment was concerned. Weight machines, treadmills, free weights … the lot. The other side of the room was the only indication that it served another purpose. It was this side of the room that Shepard had become all too familiar with in the previous weeks while learning to walk again.

Each day continued to bring new milestones for Shepard. Today, as the sun began to lower behind the distant ridges, stubborn as ever, Shepard was focused on her goal. She _would_ master climbing and descending steps before the week was out. With that goal in mind, she continued the slow process of training her legs to react the way she wanted them to.

Miranda didn't bother to suggest her friend cut herself some slack. She'd tried nearly every day for the first two months of rehabilitation. Shepard had simply ignored the suggestions. She was driven, and a definite sign that Commander Shepard had not changed much due to her injuries.

"Shepard?"

Shepard grunted as she managed to get her right leg to bend properly. Her knee was still giving her problems occasionally. "Yeah?"

"You do realize you'll be out of here in a matter of weeks, don't you?" Miranda stood off to the side, watching closely to see if her words had any effect.

Shepard caught herself on the railings as her knee buckled slightly while she placed her weight upon it. "Yeah," she managed, her voice slightly raspy with the effort needed to force her body back upright. "What of it?"

"I was just wondering if you'd had anything planned yet. Where you might go. People you want to see. That sort of thing."

At the top of the four step trainer was a small platform. Shepard paused here for a moment, turned and leaned her weight upon her arms as they rested on the rails and glanced down at Miranda. "Speak plainly, Miri," she told her friend. "You obviously have a point to all this."

"Well," Miranda took a step forward, "you'll obviously have to go to Vancouver to speak with Admiral Hackett first."

"Hmm." Shepard nodded. She brushed back some of the loose tendrils of dark curls that had pulled free from the pony tail she'd pulled them back into to keep them out of the way while she worked. "So?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if there was anywhere else up there you might want to visit. Or anyone in particular." Miranda met her friend's eyes confident that she had the truth hidden well enough for the moment.

Shepard frowned. "No, I don't think …."

A flash of a memory tickled at the back of her head for a moment.

* * *

_Starboard observation deck. Leaning against the window, staring out at the vast nothingness of space. Blue cammo fatigues that signified Alliance personnel. Dark hair and deep whiskey colored eyes that never failed to make her heart race when he looked at her in a certain way. He was turned towards her now, though she saw pain behind his eyes just then …._

_"Mom and dad made it to the orchard safely thanks to his Alliance training," he explained quietly. "After making sure mom would be okay, dad went back to Vancouver. Joined up with the Resistance. No one's heard anything from him since. He's MIA, presumed dead ..."_

_Shepard reached a hand out to touch his arm, resting there, offering him what support she could. "I'm so sorry."_

_His hand covered hers, patting lightly for a moment. "Thanks, Shepard. It's just … Mom's alone in this all now. I guess I …."_

_She stepped towards him, turned him to face her. "You have to think positive," she told him. "Not dwell on 'what ifs' or 'could bes.' It won't help her at all, nor will it help you."_

_He sighed, eyes closing a moment, shoulders shuddering slightly, but she could tell he was trying. "I know," he finally replied, eyes opening again. Gazes holding, he lifted a hand to her cheek and traced it with his fingertips. "I couldn't do this without you, you know," he told her, sincerity in the words and tone of his voice. _

_Shepard smiled. Leaning into his touch, she murmured, "Same goes for me. You mean a lot to me. You always have."_

_He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her lips. "As you have for me." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "When this is all over, when the Reapers are gone and we can move on with our lives, would you … come home with me maybe? To the orchard? Vancouver? Wherever?"_

_Shepard's smile widened as she nodded. It had been a long time since she'd had a place to call home. To share in his would be something like that, wouldn't it? "Of course I will …."_

* * *

"... Shepard? Are you alright?"

Shepard blinked several times and brought her gaze to focus on Miranda. "Um, yeah," she finally replied. Hand lifting to her temple to rub there for just a moment, she stared down at her friend. "Just … a … a memory, I guess."

Miranda's eyes widened. "Oh?"

"Someone I used to know," she murmured absently as she turned back to face the steps once more. A frown furrowed her features for a brief moment. "He used to live in the Vancouver area I think."

Miranda smiled at this. _She remembers?_ "Someone worth visiting while we're there?" she asked casually.

Just before taking the first step down (the down steps were always the hardest to her way of thinking), Shepard shook her head. "I - no, I don't think so. I don't think he's there." Turned away from Miranda, she didn't see the other woman frown in sorrow at her words. "He's still missing."

Swallowing her frustration, Miranda stepped closer towards Shepard and told her, "Alright then. Tell you what, finish these steps and then we'll go find some dinner. Sound like a plan?"

Apparently, those had been the right words since Shepard made it down the steps safely in good time. "Let's go, I'm ravenous!"

* * *

After leaving Shepard for the evening, Miranda headed back to her office for a short time, all the while debating silently with herself. Just after the first time Shepard had awoken, Admiral Hackett had contacted her with the news that not only had the Normandy returned safely at long last, but the majority of the crew had as well. When Miranda had asked specifically after Major Alenko, Hackett had confirmed this as well. All set to surprise Shepard with the news when next she woke again, Miranda had instead kept it to herself once it became clear that Shepard's memories were now affected by her coma. She'd been trying to work in situations during Shepard's rehabilitation where she could drop hints, small triggers, attempt to lead the commander back to the present by guiding her to remember, but it all seemed to be for nought.

So Miranda now had a decision to make. She could keep trying to work with Shepard, attempt to find the one trigger that would finally affect the necessary change, before she reunited her with Alenko (currently the only one from aboard the Normandy at that time anywhere close by), or she could contact Alenko himself and enlist his aid.

Miranda frowned. But what if he wouldn't believe her? She knew Admiral Hackett had told the man that Shepard's whereabouts were 'unknown.' Would he believe her if she just dropped him a quick message saying, "Oh by the way, the woman you love is alive and mostly well after all. Come and get her," or should she be more vague?

Miranda's breath caught then as sudden inspiration hit. _Or …._


	4. Autumn

_Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence._

* * *

Kaidan awoke to the scent of change in the air. The orchard, after a long, warm summer (at least by his standards given that he'd spent the best part of the past fifteen years on a strict military schedule and most of that off-world) of personalized attention and care appeared to finally be bearing fruit. Quite literally, in fact. So much so that today he would be checking to see if the first grouping of trees that they had been rehabilitating since the end of the war were finally ready for harvest. If not today, then surely within the next few days. He wasn't worried, though. The seasons were changing as they always did, by guidance of Mother Nature's gentle hands. He was merely along to help.

He rose from bed unhurriedly, his usual in the days since leaving the Systems Alliance. Undue haste could lead to reinjury of his hip, after all. He was surprised to find the message light at his private terminal blinking though. Over the months since his departure from the Alliance, he'd heard occasionally from some of his former crewmates - Joker a couple of times, Dr. Chakwas, Liara, Garrus, even James had managed to drop a quick note once or twice whenever his training allowed - but Kaidan noticed on quick inspection that this particular message was different. There was no indication of the identity of the sender and the subject line read,

DO YOU STILL BELIEVE?

Kaidan snorted softly as he read it, reaching automatically for the delete button thinking it to be some sort of junk message. Some things never appeared to change. However, caution stayed his hand. Curiosity getting the better of him, he instead opened the message to reveal a second question.

DO YOU STILL HAVE HOPE?

He stood there for a few long moments and attempted to sort it all out in his head. Without the sender's identity, he could not put the message into context. It had the feel of one of the many religious affiliations, groups who were now beginning to make a bit of a comeback with the threat of the Reapers finally past, and though he didn't particularly care for some of the scare tactics used by some, he did recognize the simple fact that it gave many people a way in which to deal with everything that had happened. As for himself, well, he was far too jaded after his experiences over the past few years to give their promises much credence.

However, the more he stared at the two questions on the screen before him, the more he began to wonder if there wasn't some larger meaning behind it. That perhaps it was a specific message meant for him. Why and from whom, he had no idea, but at least it gave him something he could ponder that day while he was working out in the orchards to help time pass. Deciding to save the message to deal with later, he closed down the terminal and went to dress for the day. The trees were not going to take care of themselves.

* * *

Kaidan found himself continuously surprised at just how healing the process of working out in the orchard could be, tending the trees, feeling the dirt beneath his hands, watching life return to the land, the challenge of protecting it all. He wasn't quite certain how to describe it other than perhaps to call it a sort of harmony between himself and nature. When younger, he'd never felt the same really. Oh, he'd assisted his father in his younger days, helping with some of the manual labor, learning a thing or two about tending the land and such, but it hadn't really clicked for him then. It was part of why he'd ultimately ended up with the Alliance. He had _known_ he was meant for that, it had just taken him a while to get to that point. These days, though … maybe it was more because of all that he'd seen and experienced? Or because of the loss? Or maybe he was realizing just how fragile life could be and the idea of being able to nurture something from birth to full growth helped him to feel useful again. Whatever it was, he knew that this was where he was meant to be at that moment in time. Of that he had no doubt.

But all that said, Kaidan still found himself occasionally falling back and reflecting on old memories ….

* * *

_"My parents tend to split their time between Vancouver and the family orchard out in the BC Interior."_

_She nodded slowly in understanding. "Interesting. We have something in common then." When he gave her a questioning look, she added softly, "My parents were agriculturists on Mindoir."_

_The cup of coffee stopped halfway to his lips, words of condolence, sympathy, apology tumbling awkwardly from them instead. Damn, he hadn't meant to bring up something so painful!_

_Though tinged with sadness, she did offer him a reassuring smile. Reaching out, she briefly touched the back of his hand where it lay on the table between them. "It's okay, Kaidan," she told him. "It's something I've learned to live with."_

_Their eyes met for a moment and he noted that she really did seem to mean her words. Searching for something to move them past this awkward moment, he commented, "Agriculturists? Anything in particular?"_

_A soft sigh. "You're going to laugh," she murmured, her eyes dropping to focus on where their hands still touched._

_"I promise," he replied, hand turning over beneath hers so that their palms touched. "I won't laugh."_

_He saw her sneak a glance out from behind the bangs that were hiding her eyes at the moment. It was an adorable look and one in such contrast with the serious, special forces trained marine that Kaidan found he couldn't help but smile back at her. Her eyes met his for a moment before darting back downwards. At a loss it took him a moment to realize that a very faint tinge of pink was darkening her cheeks. Was she blushing?_

_"Staple crops, mostly," she finally replied, "though mom had a greenhouse and was very well known around Mindoir for her flowers. Any romantic holiday and her business was booming the months beforehand. Roses, lilies, you name it, she grew it."_

_Kaidan found himself smiling, a lazy, silly grin playing at the edges of his lips just then. Why, he wasn't quite certain, but he was certainly finding her to be a fascinating person. One with whom he did appear to have something in common after all …._

* * *

Arriving out at the furthest section of the orchard, Kaidan carefully exited the vehicle and followed after Davis, foreman of the workers his mother had employed after the war. Kaidan remembered the man from his youth and knew that if anyone could help him bring the orchard back to what it had once been, it was him. Following him down the rows of trees, he saw Davis reach for one of the apples off the tree. One moment the man took a large bite, testing for ripeness, and the next the truth suddenly hit Kaidan head on ….

* * *

_Kaidan could feel each droplet of tart sweetness as it dribbled slowly down his chin. It was a messy thing, but oh so worth it in the long run. Apples from the family orchard were the best to his way of thinking. He'd been surprised when the package had arrived just before the Normandy had left dock for its shakedown run, but grateful nonetheless. Each and every one of them had been a crisp, juicy and sweet reminder of home._

_"Hey, Kaidan."_

_He glanced up, eyes finding hers as he hastily chewed and swallowed, his arm lifting automatically to wipe the evidence from his face. Only one thing - one person - could compare to the delicious treats from back home and she'd just walked up beside him. Struggling for composure, he finally managed, "Hey, commander."_

_Shepard noticed the apple in his hand then and he saw her eyes widen and light up. "Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice almost breathy with awe and astonishment._

_"It's from our family orchard," he explained. "Mom always sends me a few from each harvest. They arrived just before we left port."_

_"And you still have some left?"_

_He chuckled. "This is the last one," he admitted. And then …. "Would you like the rest of it?" He extended a hand towards her._

_But she protested. "Oh, I couldn't! That's your last one!"_

_Kaidan waggled it in front of her. "Go on," he encouraged. Then with a knowing grin, he added, "We grow the best …."_

_Their eyes met and held for a long moment, but finally she acquiesced. "Mmmm," she hummed a moment later, tongue darting out to catch a droplet of juice that tried to sneak away down her chin. "So good. I'd almost forgotten …."_

_Kaidan leaned back and watched with a silently pleased smile as she enjoyed the apple._

* * *

That evening as he prepared for bed, Kaidan returned briefly to the terminal at his desk. Pulling up the message, he read it over one last time before hitting the reply button. He had to learn to take a chance on life again.

DO YOU STILL HAVE HOPE?

Pressing 'reply,' he typed in two words before hitting 'send' and turning towards his bed.

* * *

Despite her current 'assignment,' a visit to Alliance Headquarters, Vancouver, was not exactly a comfortable proposition for Miranda. She knew she still got looks by those who knew her (though fewer and further between these days thanks to the war) and those who didn't, and usually she wouldn't have let it bother her. Oh, hell … she knew damned well that had it not been for Shepard she wouldn't have been here in the first place. But it _was_ Shepard and so, here she was. Waiting. Sighing, Miranda exited Admiral Hackett's office. While Shepard was in conference, she had other things to attend.

_I DO._

Miranda smiled to herself as she headed out of the office and down the hall towards the front lobby. He'd answered her message with two words. But it had been an answer and it had been enough. She'd followed it up immediately with another short, if less cryptic, message asking him to meet her here today. She knew she should have the better part of an hour to speak with him while Shepard was in with the admiral, perhaps a bit longer if she was lucky. During that time, if he did indeed show, she would have a lot of explaining to do.

Miranda surveyed the area as she approached, but didn't see him. Taking a seat on a nearby sofa, she continued to survey her surroundings. _ 'The devil was in the details,' _she'd heard someone say once. In the past couple of years she'd also learned first hand that the devil could be lurking around every corner. It paid to be prepared.

"I wondered who might be behind the message. I have to admit - you were not on the list."

Miranda gasped softly, turning sharply to her left as the voice suddenly appeared. Glancing upwards, she found him standing a foot or so away, dressed in jeans, a cream colored turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket. No wonder she hadn't recognized him. "Major Alenko."

She watched as he stepped forward then, the barest hint of a limp still present in his steps. "Just Kaidan, please," he told her as he took a seat. "I've left the Alliance, as I'm sure you well know."

Miranda nodded. "Very well then, Kaidan. Thank you for meeting me here."

He nodded. "I got your … message, I guess. Care to elaborate now that we're meeting in person?"

Miranda's smile was a bit wan. "Certainly, Maj - Kaidan." She caught herself just in time, noticing as she did that there was a bit of a flicker of emotion behind his eyes.

Turning to face him, she started explaining from the beginning the story as she knew it. Approaching Admiral Hackett even before the final attack in London. Being on the shuttle that brought Shepard back to Earth. Every minute detail, including the specifics of her injuries and the progress she had been making in her recovery. Once she had him up to date on that, she told him about the amnesia.

"I know you want to see her, but I'm not sure that is a good idea at the moment," she concluded. "Shepard has come a very long way in the past year, but she still has a long journey ahead of her." Miranda watched him carefully for his reaction to her words.

* * *

Kaidan sat there, shoulders hunched over slightly, arms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward, his hands clasped together. In reality, he was afraid he'd throw something either physically or biotically if he didn't keep them held in check. Had he allowed his hopes to get raised too high? Or had he been unrealistic? He had to admit, at first after sending his reply to her message, he'd cursed himself a fool for thinking it could possibly be related to Shepard at all. However, upon finding her request for a meeting the next time he'd checked, he'd felt his heart soar. But now …. "Is it temporary?" he asked quietly and yet dreading her answer.

"We don't know. Like I said, that first time she woke, she asked after you and the Normandy. The next time, nothing." She sighed and he glanced cautiously over at her. "There have been times I thought she might be recalling events from her past. She will get a sort of lost look in her eyes, like she's seeing something but it's not right in front of her?"

Kaidan nodded. He'd seen Shepard react that way before. "I'm familiar with it."

"Anyway, I've tried encouraging her to tell me about what she'd been thinking or seeing or remembering … but she doesn't ever say."

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat, his hands rising to rub at his face. "And you don't think seeing me would trigger a familiar response?" he challenged.

Miranda shrugged. "Anything is possible," she allowed, "but at this point, I would say no. Look, I know this is difficult for you -"

Kaidan's eyes darkened. "You have no idea," he muttered.

The pair remained silent for a few moments during which Kaidan struggled to find some sort of way to compose himself. The last thing he wanted to do was make things worse, but he was so desperate to see her again. To talk with her. To have things like they had been before. Heaving a heavy sigh, Kaidan sat forward again, running a hand through his hair. "Can I at least … see her?" he asked.

Miranda nodded once. "On the condition that you do not try to speak to her," she clarified. She glanced down at her omni-tool before rising to her feet. "I need to head back to Admiral Hackett's office. If you like, I will bring her out this way and you will have your chance. Is that acceptable?"

Kaidan rose beside her. "Do I have any choice?" he asked. "Don't answer that," he added quickly. "I'll be here. I will stand over there," he pointed to an area nearby that had people milling about, "and watch for your exit. Where … where will you be going next?" God, but he wanted to stay in touch with her. Even if she didn't remember who he was or what they'd once had. Something was better than nothing, wasn't it?

"She still has several weeks of therapy left," Miranda explained. "We'll be returning to the hospital for that. Afterwards … that will be up to her, I suppose."

Kaidan nodded his understanding as she started to walk away. "Will you let me know how she's doing?"

Miranda turned back for the briefest of moments, offering him a small smile. "Of course." Retracing her steps, he watched as she laid a hand on his arm. "Despite what you might think, Kaidan, I really do want what is best for her."

Kaidan nodded again. "I know. I just …."

Her smile widened. "Don't give up hope."

He met her gaze and held it. Straightening, he promised, "I won't."

After Miranda departed, Kaidan made his way over to the area he'd pointed out to her. Located centrally with a fountain and some benches nearby, it was a good location about halfway between the doors and the elevator. He positioned himself so that he wasn't in direct line of sight, but he was able to see all the comings and goings between the elevators and doors. About twenty minutes passed before he looked up to see them. In that first, breathtaking moment of seeing her for the first time in nearly a year, Kaidan almost forgot his promise to Miranda and stepped towards them. However, he did manage to catch himself, even went so far as to scoot back to the fringes of a group of soldiers nearby who were having a rather intense discussion. But all the while, he watched them walk by.

The first thing he noticed was that she walked with a marked limp, her arm looped through Miranda's presumably for balance in lieu of a cane or crutch. Her hair was shorter too, he saw, the dark chestnut curls barely reaching below her shoulders now when before it had been down to her waist. He couldn't get a good look at her face, however. But whatever injuries still remained, either physical or emotional, she was standing straight and proud, her military bearing still fully evident.

He watched as they exited through the main doors, eyes following. So focused on her was he that he nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Major."

Turning, Kaidan found Admiral Hackett standing there. Straightening, it was all he could do to keep from saluting his former superior officer. "Sir."

"I see you've been informed of the Commander's safe return."

Kaidan nodded. "I have, sir."

"Were you also informed that she has retired effective today?"

Kaidan blinked. "No, sir." It was strange, he thought. Back before that last battle, he and Shepard had both discussed potential futures after the war was over. Both had agreed that the Alliance was their home and that they hoped to try to make one together within it. _And now we've both left …._

"Officially, she will remain active until her treatment and rehabilitation are completed. However, for all intents and purposes, she's been retired. And deservedly so after her service," he added. "You seem surprised."

Kaidan nodded. "I am a bit, sir," he explained. "When we'd both discussed our thoughts for after the war, each of us thought to remain in service."

"Ah, I see." Hackett tilted his head to the side just a bit and gave Kaidan an evaluating sort of look. "Are you curious as to why she decided to retire?" he asked.

Again Kaidan blinked. "I would assume it was due to her injuries," he returned.

Hackett chuckled. "Not exactly. She told me it was because she wanted to 'help things grow.' Said something about following in her mother's footsteps. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

Kaidan felt his breath catch for just a moment. "Only in the most basic terms," he replied as he recalled that conversation so long ago. But if she was wanting to follow in her mother's footsteps …. A smile started to form, his lips turning upwards for the first time in a long while. Miranda had advised him to not give up hope. This went a long way towards helping him achieve that goal. "I'm sorry, Admiral, but I must be going in order to catch the shuttle home," Kaidan told the man as he turned. "If you will excuse me?"

"Of course, major."

As he sat in the shuttle, Kaidan felt the kernel of an idea that had started with the Admiral's words begin to grow into something much more. By the time he arrived home, it had evolved into a full fledged plan. Planning, he was good at.

The first thing he did upon arriving was make his way to his terminal, open up his messages and pull up the last one he'd received from Miranda. Hitting reply, he began typing furiously. Once completed and sent, Kaidan headed into the kitchen where he found his mother. He talked to her about his visit to Vancouver in general terms rather than anything specific, though he had told her about Shepard in the days since his arrival home.

Several hours later, as he was preparing for bed, Kaidan glanced over to find the message light on his terminal blinking. Seating himself, he pulled up the new message and smiled as he discovered it was from Miranda. As usual, she responded with a single sentence.

WILL EXECUTE SOONEST POSSIBLE.

Grinning, Kaidan opened a new message and directed it to James. Though still in training, Kaidan knew the man would get to it as soon as he could. Plus, there was the fact that he'd promised to send word the moment he knew something. Well, this qualified as something. All that remained was the manner in which he would alert his friend. But this time, he didn't need to think about it as the line to a very old song came back to him.

* * *

_The weekly poker night had been foregone this particular week and instead the players had opted for old time music and beer. Kaidan, Garrus and Dr. Chakwas were standing around the bar while James was fiddling with the music player nearby. Drink in hand, Kaidan turned to glance over at the younger soldier. Handing over a bottle, he saw James take it in hand while hitting the play button, stepping back and downing half the drink at once. Moments later, Kaidan heard an unfamiliar song with a Latin sounding rhythm. "What's that?"_

_James grinned at him. "Listen," he suggested, taking another drink as the drums led into other instrumental lines. _

_And then a silky smooth voice began crooning, "Her name was Lola … she was a showgirl …"_

_Wide-eyed, Kaidan could only stare at the younger man for a long moment. "You … you have to be kidding me," he finally managed. Behind him he could hear Garrus and the doctor chuckling._

_James grinned at him. "Nope. Seriously, man, it's a real song."_

_"I do hope you haven't played that for the commander, James?" the doctor asked._

_James chuckled. "Hell no, doc! I don't want to become her target next mission out!"_

* * *

**To: Lieutenant James Vega**  
**From: Kaidan Alenko**  
**Subject: Update**

**She was a showgirl.**

Chuckling to himself, Kaidan hit send and closed down the terminal for the night while wondering just how long it would be until he heard back from Vega.


	5. Winter

_Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance._

* * *

If there was anything James was certain of during his ICT training it was that they were bent on keeping him busy nearly twenty-four-seven. Courses, training in everything from linguistics to zero-g to jetpack usage. Even actual missions were assigned, though James had to wonder if this was normal or more because of his experience during the Reaper War. Either way, it all required his complete focus and attention.

Mail call was on a weekly basis - once a week, ICT would unblock access to all personal omni-tool channels and allow incoming and outgoing (though often heavily censored) messages. By the time James returned from his current mission (one that had lasted nearly twice as long as he'd been told to expect. Another test? He wouldn't doubt it. Everything here was a test, right?) he'd missed three weeks of mail call, so he wasn't surprised to receive a few messages. The first was from his uncle, the second and third from two cousins who had caught up with him after the war, and the third ….

James grinned when he saw the sender's name. Opening up the message labeled _Update,_ he nearly choked on his laughter at what he found inside. "_Dios mio!_" he breathed. "Seriously?" he muttered. _Why the fuck couldn't anyone have said anything before now?_

Dropping heavily onto the side of his bunk, James stared off into the distance for a long moment. He'd been at this training for near on seven months now. According to their instructors, the recruits would get a couple of weeks leave coming up around the Christmas holidays. Apparently, the feeling was that this year's holidays would be a greater celebration than usual considering the effects of the Reaper War. And while James was planning to visit his uncle, he wondered if perhaps he might not also head back to Vancouver and offer the major a bit of moral support? Eyes turning back to his omni-tool, he began tapping out a reply. He wasn't the best when it came to coded messages, but what the hell. If the major got a laugh out of it, all the better.

LET ME KNOW IF SHE SINGS CHRISTMAS CAROLS.

Damn, he hoped so. It sure would be good to see Lola again after all this time.

* * *

She would probably remember this as the most difficult three months of her life … lives, even, if she were to be a bit more technical. After visiting Vancouver, straightening out her situation with Admiral Hackett, Shepard and Miranda had returned to Colorado with new purpose. More determined than ever to complete her recovery, Shepard began planning her 'attack' in a style reminiscent of her days serving in the Alliance. Find her goal - plan her strategy - attack with force - achieve the victory.

The first month flew by almost before she knew it. It almost frightened her how much she achieved during that time. Walking easily without assistance almost seemed to happen overnight, followed soon thereafter with mobility improvement for obstacles such as stairs and snow drifts, the latter being an unexpected weekend challenge that (thankfully) passed without incident.

The second month, time seemed to slow to a crawl, occasional obstacles rearing their heads and causing delays, challenging her in ways she was not expecting. She was frustrated at first which almost sent her backwards with the progress she had been making, but Miranda was quick to move in, reassuring her that in any sort of rehabilitation such as this a person would reach plateaus and that patience was perhaps the largest requirement at this point.

During this time, Miranda was around to assist as she always had. That is to say, not so much with the physical therapy as the psychological. Shepard was intelligent enough to realize that there was more to her friend's continued presence at this point than simply to follow through with the project. "So, Miri …?"

"Hmm?" Miranda was standing over near the windows staring out at the scenic backdrop. Snow had fallen again the night before, a carpet of fluffy whiteness covering the landscape as far as the eye could see.

Shepard attempted to keep her breathing regulated as the pace of the treadmill increased incrementally. It felt good to be moving more like she'd been used to, faster paced, with more purpose. She could almost imagine she was on the battlefield, moving from target to target. "Tell me … why are you still … here?"

Miranda waited a moment before turning to face Shepard. Walking over, she busied herself with checking the equipment Shepard was using, reaching over to depress a button to increase the difficulty of the treadmill yet again this session. "I'm here because you need me. Why else would I be?"

Shepard moved to accommodate the increased pace, arms lifting from the rails and tucking in close to her sides, moving with her jogging motions in an attempt to keep balance. If Shepard had her way, she'd still be holding onto the rails this time. This was only the second time she'd been able to do so for any length of time without losing her balance. The last time, she'd exhausted herself too quickly and nearly fallen by the time she realized it. _Point taken, Miri_, Shepard thought while giving her friend a nod. "Oh, I … don't know …," she rasped a moment later. "Ever since … Vancouver … you've been acting … odd."

Miranda's brow lifted in challenge and question. "Odd? How do you mean, Shepard?"

Shepard wanted to toss back her own look of challenge, but her focus at the moment was on the treadmill. She had at least another ten minutes here before she could stop. "Strange. Peculiar. Like you're … hiding … something."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "I know what the word means, Shepard," she returned. Outwardly, she was certain she was coming across as impatient. Inwardly, though, she couldn't help but wonder if Shepard had figured things out. And if so, did that mean that her 'amnesia' was finally leaving? "Give me examples."

"Well," Shepard began, her lungs working harder as she struggled to breathe and run at the same time, "you … you're … oh, shit." Tired of the battle between running and speaking, Shepard grasped the handrails and moved her feet to the outer edges of the treadmill, lifting each onto the non-movable surface. Once satisfied she was in a secure position, she reached down and turned the machine off.

Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Shepard, you have ten minutes left -"

Shepard shook her head sharply as she moved off the treadmill. She grabbed a towel hanging on one rail and used it to wipe her face off before hanging it around her neck. "No," she countered, finally turning back to face her friend. "I want answers and I want them now. Not prevarications. Not half-truths. I want to know what you're up to, Miri." She met Miranda's hard look with one of her own. "I _know_ I'm at the center of whatever it is you're plotting."

"Who says I'm plotting anything?"

Shepard smirked as she stepped across the room towards Miranda. "Miri … it's you. And I certainly know you better than that after all this time. What else would you be doing?"

* * *

After returning from Vancouver, once he'd informed Miranda of his plan and obtained her agreement, Kaidan started working on his end of things immediately. The initial stages of the process had all been planning anyway, so despite the early arrival of winter a few weeks later he was able to make good progress. He wasn't an architect by any means, but there was a building behind the main house that hadn't been in use for a while and could be repurposed. All he needed was a little assistance.

Which had came from places he hadn't expected. Davis had known someone who had a cousin who knew someone and, well, it sort of rolled out from there. Neighbors helping neighbors. A need was out there and those who could assist had come to assist. A good feeling to be found in these days after the war. A sense of homegrown community that Kaidan had missed out on while serving. Not that he hadn't found a similar sort of feeling while in the Alliance of course, here it was just … different. Out there, he'd been protecting the very people who were now helping him. Yet another example of how things in life could come full circle.

Not wanting to annoy his partner in crime, Kaidan kept the progress at the orchard to himself. And though he wanted to contact her, not so much as a reminder but in the slim hopes that she might drop him just a bit of information, something to help keep that hope she'd advised him to hold onto alive, he did not. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. Focus was something he'd always been good at. Well, except maybe for the times when Shepard had been directly involved, then it had been a more difficult thing to find at times.

Winter moved into full swing just as construction on the project wound up. But his part was done. Now the ball was back in Miranda's court. Kaidan sent her a brief message to alert her to this before resigning himself to the fact that he would now have to be patient. Patient, he could do. No problem. It was the uncertainty of the outcome of this plan that worried him more and kept him awake at nights. Would it work? Would she remember? Was there a hope that what they'd once had could return? _THAT_ was the harder thing to deal with.

* * *

"Shepard, have you got a minute?"

Miranda stood in the doorway to Shepard's room waiting for permission to enter. Miranda watched as Shepard glanced up from her desk where she'd been using the computer terminal located there to do research on the extranet. "Sure. What's up?"

Crossing the room, Miranda took a seat in a nearby chair. "I think I might have a solution for your dilemma."

Miranda observed Shepard sitting back and turning to face her as she spoke. For weeks Shepard been trying to formulate a plan to achieve what she'd told Hackett she wanted. Miranda knew this. Hell, she'd been assisting Shepard in any way that she could. Shepard wanted a new life. To grow things, flowers, like her mother had, she said. For some reason, the memories of her parents on Mindoir, the things she'd learned from them, were calling to her. Miranda found that to be a good sign. Shepard had given her all to the Alliance, to the Council, to the galaxy. Miranda highly doubted that Shepard would ever be able to return to active duty given the severity of her injuries after that last battle, and had told Shepard as much. While it had been managed once before, when the Illusive Man had brought her back from death, there was only so much a body could take before it just would not give anymore.

"Oh?" Shepard mused while leaning back in the chair. Arms settling across her chest, she gave Miranda a somewhat suspicious glance. "Talk to me."

Miranda noticed Shepard's reaction took on a semi-defensive posture, but what else could she do? She'd been trying for weeks now to slip in pieces of information, to see if something might become a trigger for the woman's personal memories of the ones she cared about, but so far nothing. No, the only thing she _had_ figured out during this time was that Shepard's emotional amnesia was a stubborn thing. They'd discussed the Normandy and her crew certainly, and Shepard seemed to recall everyone clearly enough. She definitely could account for all her (mis)adventures during the past several years and others even earlier than that. But when it came to talking about more personal observations and feelings regarding some of them, well, Shepard tended to avoid or deflect the questions. Miranda did not believe this to be an intentional reaction either.

They were now at a point where Shepard's physical therapy had progressed as far as they could take it. Any further improvements would have to come with time and dedication on her part. And outside of this facility. Which meant, unfortunately, that Miranda's time had run out. So, it was time to turn to Plan B. She just hoped that Kaidan Alenko was up to the challenge. "Do you remember me telling you that Kaidan had resigned his commission?" Miranda asked.

Shepard nodded. "Went home to his father's orchard, right?"

Miranda smiled. "Yes. I communicated with him recently. Apparently, Admiral Hackett has been in touch with him and mentioned you would be leaving rehab soon. Anyway, I did some checking," Miranda fervently hoped Kaidan wouldn't mind her bit of ad libbing here. She made a mental note to message him this evening if this impromptu plan worked, just so he'd be aware, "and it appears that the orchard has a rather large greenhouse that is simply not being used at the moment. He's offered it up for your use, if you like. At least, until you get yourself situated and all."

Shepard blinked, surprise clearly evident in her eyes. "Surely he needs it for his business …?"

Miranda kept a close eye on Shepard's reactions here. "Oh, he says they use it occasionally, but that at the moment their focus is saving what they can of the existing orchard before they start worrying about growing and expanding again." Keeping her smile in place, Miranda leaned towards Shepard a bit. "What do you think?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed into a frown. "Why?" she asked quietly. "Why would he offer something like that? I mean, don't get me wrong - I appreciate it - but, I can't help but wonder if there's not something more behind it."

Miranda mentally sighed. She should have known Shepard would question. "That's something you'll need to ask him, I'm afraid," she replied. "So, what would you like me to tell him? Are you willing to try it?"

The wariness still clear on her face, Shepard finally nodded. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go and check it out," she agreed. "It's not like I have any other options available at the moment."

Miranda rose to her feet then. "That is true. Well, you might as well pack your things. I'll go make our travel arrangements."

Back in her office, Miranda pulled up her terminal and logged in quickly. While Shepard was now aware of the situation, she still didn't know many of the details and Miranda needed to pass along certain pieces of information so that Kaidan would be ready for their arrival. Thankfully, they'd planned most of it out before. She just hoped he didn't mind some of her alterations.

* * *

While the house would be a bit more crowded than usual for the holidays this year, Kaidan found that he didn't mind it one bit. James arrived first, just a few days before after a stop over to check in and visit with his uncle briefly. Kaidan had met the younger man first upon his arrival in order to bring him up to date on what was happening. To say that the lieutenant looked astounded by the news would have been an understatement.

_"So, she doesn't know us at all?" he asked._

_Kaidan shook his head. "Not quite. From the way Miranda describes it, she knows who we are, just … not some of the finer details."_

_James frowned. "Shit," he muttered as he followed Kaidan inside. "And you're hoping to change all that by having her stay here?"_

_"No." Kaidan paused in the front room, hoping to finish this discussion before his mother found them. It wasn't that she wasn't aware of the situation, just that he wanted to be sure James understood. "James, you know I love her. That hasn't changed at all. But I didn't do all this because of that. I did it because I want her to be happy - with me or without. And after all we've been through together, it's the least I could do to help."_

_James sighed. "Yeah, I get it," he muttered. "I don't like it, but I get it. I just wish there was something more we could do."_

_"You and me both."_

According to the information Kaidan had received from Miranda, she and Shepard would be arriving any time now. He had to admit, as he paced and prowled around the front room, he was a bit nervous. As much as he had assured James he wouldn't be disappointed if Shepard went her own way, he knew it to be only partly true. He would always love her. Of that there was no doubt. And he truly did want to see her happy. But he firmly believed (that hope that Miranda had urged him to hold onto firmly kept this thought foremost in his mind) that he and Shepard _would_ be together.

Sighing heavily, Kaidan ran a hand through his hair. What was the ancient saying? _If wishes were horses, beggars would ride_ ….

"Hey, man. You okay?"

Kaidan turned to find James approaching, beer in hand. When Vega offered him one, Kaidan accepted it gratefully. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied, though he didn't sound very convincing even to himself.

"Hmm. So, what's the plan?" Vega asked then.

Kaidan sighed again and then took a drink. "I wish I knew, James. I'd hoped that Miranda might be able to get through to her by now, you know? That the pressure would be off and we could all just relax and reminisce. But, now …?" He shrugged. "I just don't know." Kaidan took another drink and nearly choked as James clapped his shoulder then. Coughing and glancing over at him, Kaidan couldn't help but wonder if the younger man knew his own strength.

"It'll work out," James announced reassuringly. "Somehow, someway … it will work."

Eyebrow rising in question, Kaidan returned, "How can you be sure?"

Vega chuckled. "Easy. It's the Commander, right? And you. From all I've heard, you guys have been through hell and back already. Now it's just a matter of getting everything to fall into its proper place."

Kaidan smirked. "So … you're a romantic then?" he asked.

Kaidan supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by the laughter that followed. "Yeah, that's right," he owned up, grinning widely. "What'cha gonna do about it?"

Kaidan rolled his eyes. "Nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing." What was the point? He was one too.

"Smart move." James took a deep pull from his bottle. "Plus," he added with a wink, "this _is_ Lola we're talking about, right? The woman who defeated the Reapers? Told Harbinger where he could stick it and then backed it up personally?"

Kaidan began laughing at the images Vega's words were creating. "Alright, alright," he replied. "I get it. Don't give up yet."

James grinned. "Exactly."

* * *

For reasons she couldn't quite put into words, Shepard found herself feeling nervous as Miranda drove along. To distract herself, she kept her gaze focused on the surrounding countryside. She had to admit, it was beautiful country. Thankfully, the Reapers had left much of it alone until the very end, so the cleanup and turnaround back to normal out here had been quick and relatively easy. But the views were gorgeous ….

_"Tell me about your home." _

_She felt his arms move around her as they snuggled close to each other. It was probably the most secure she'd felt personally since fleeing Mindoir at age sixteen. That she had allowed things to get this far between them had been a bit of a surprise to her, but he'd been so patient, kind and caring that it had felt … right. And if she was going to be completely honest with herself, she would have to admit that she could not keep saying 'no' whenever she found herself looking into those eyes._

_"Not much to tell," he told her. "Dad's family has had the orchard for generations. It's in the BC Interior, about three hours out from Vancouver. Near enough to the mountains you can see them, hell even walk to them if you've a mind to, and surrounded by acres and acres of apple trees."_

_His hands were rubbing lightly against her shoulder and arm, and she found herself smiling almost dreamily at the image his words presented. "It sounds lovely," she told him. "Mindoir was so flat, boring in some ways. No mountains, most of the lakes there were man-made and meant for agricultural purposes only."_

_"Well, …." His voice trailed off and she turned so their eyes could meet. Whiskey colored met chocolate. Though technically they both had brown eyes, she found it fascinating at just how different theirs were from the other's. _ _Lifting a brow in question, she silently asked him to complete his thought. "Maybe, when we get some extended shore leave, I could take you to visit?"_

_Shepard chuckled. "You wanting me to meet your folks, Kaidan?" she teased. When his neck darkened in embarrassment, she relented, lifting a hand to his cheek to cradle it. Leaning upwards, she kissed him. "I would love to," she murmured sincerely. "Once we've cleared out the rest of these geth, let's do it." She found herself wondering then, as his smile seemed to light up his face, just how she'd ever managed to live without him in her life before …._

"... Shepard? You alright over there?"

Blinking in surprise as the memory began to fade but the weight of it remained, Shepard turned to face Miranda. "Sorry, what?"

Miranda tossed her a quick, concerned look. "Are you okay? I've been calling your name for a few minutes but you didn't respond."

Shepard sighed. "No, I'm good. I was just … thinking." She turned to look back out the window. "Remembering even."

"Oh? Remembering what?"

_Now … that's a good question_. Shepard shrugged to deflect Miranda's requisite round of questioning (Shepard was beginning to think it was an occupational hazard for the woman) and tried to sort it out in her own head. Kaidan. She remembered him well enough; their time serving together on the SR1, their misunderstanding on Horizon, the severity of his injuries on Mars …. She felt a tightness forming in her chest at that last. She remembered feeling devastated by what had happened. Of fear stalking her every move during that long trip to the Citadel until she found out for certain he would be alright. And even then ….

She frowned. He returned to the SR2. After the coup attempt by Cerberus. She recalled those events as well. He'd met her at the docking bay, faced off with her after what had happened, and ultimately joined her and the rest of the Normandy crew for the remainder of the war. He'd had her back as he'd promised then and … more?

_"Five minutes, a quick drink," he cajoled, a teasing smile playing at his lips. "Then I'll go. Okay?"_

_Shepard sighed and rolled her eyes as he walked around her and into the cabin. Reluctantly setting her datapad atop the other on her desk, she gave in. "Fine, five minutes," she returned, attempting to grump and grouch a bit, but smirking as he just chuckled. He knew her too well. Taking the glass he offered, she moved around him to sit on the couch. "But then I have to -"_

_He sat beside her, turning to face her. Reaching out, he ran a hand along her cheek to convince her to look at him. "Shepard, relax," he told her quietly, sincerely. "Everything you've done … all the resources gathered, allies you've found … well, we're as prepared as we're going to be."_

_She sipped at her drink, allowing it shock her system into some sort of reaction. "I hope so," she responded. _

_His hand drifted around her shoulders and he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to her lips. "You've done amazing things," he murmured, lowering his forehead to press against hers for a moment. "You've given us all hope that we can do this, maybe even survive this in the process, and that hope is a very powerful thing."_

_Swallowing tightly, she looked into his eyes. "I'm glad I've been able to do that for you," she told him honestly, "but -"_

_He cut her off with another kiss. "No 'buts'," he insisted. "You have. And we will be with you until the end."_

_"We?" she echoed, wondering at the intensity of the look she saw in his eyes just then._

_"I will be right beside you, if you'll have me there," he promised. Setting his drink aside, he sat back, pulling her onto his lap to straddle him, facing him. "I love you, Heather. Until the end of time."_

_She blinked. "I …," she fumbled for a moment, startled by his admission. Oh, he'd told her time and again that she was the only one for him, but having him say the words …. Finally finding her breath again, she smiled and leaned in towards him. "I love you too, Kaidan …."_

Blinking herself back into the present, she couldn't help but wonder, were these real memories, or just wishful thinking?

Moments later, she realized that Miranda had brought the vehicle to a stop. A quick look out the window and Shepard realized they had arrived. "Already?"

Miranda chuckled. "You kept fading away on me there, Shepard. You lost more time than you think."

"Hmm." Rising carefully, Shepard opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle ….

* * *

Kaidan heard their arrival. Hell, he would have to have been deaf to _not_ hear it as he'd moved to stand by the one window facing out front just so he could watch for them. Moving quickly, he exited the house. He'd just descended the steps of the porch when he spotted Shepard stepping out of the vehicle. Nerves kicking into gear again, despite his earlier talk with James, Kaidan managed a small smile. "Hey, Shepard. It's good to see you."

She turned slowly towards him, her eyes lifting to meet his. It was nearly dark out, but he saw some sort of emotion flicker behind her eyes then. "Hey, Kaidan," she replied. "You, too."

He hadn't been prepared for her voice, he realized. He thought he'd remembered the smoky, almost raspy tone that he always associated with her … but hearing her now, he realized it hadn't come close. It wasn't so much because her voice had changed, he supposed, as it simply was the fact that he hadn't heard it in over a year. Breaking his thoughts away for a moment, he glanced over to the other side of the car. "Hello, Miranda. Glad you both could make it."

Miranda nodded in her cool, brisk, all too efficient way that he remembered. "Thanks for having us."

He led them indoors and out of the cold, guiding them to the front room. They spent the next half hour or so making introductions, gathering luggage from the car and eventually showing Shepard and Miranda to their rooms. It was late, after all, and their journey had been a long one. Miranda had been the first to beg off, favoring sleep to reminiscing. "Shepard makes for a stubborn patient," she offered by way of excuse.

Shepard simply snorted, "Me? Stubborn?" which had both James and Kaidan chuckling. "Well, Lola," James countered with a teasing grin, "there was a time or two out there when …."

"Don't push it, James," she warned in return, but Kaidan saw a twinkle in her eyes which caught him a bit off guard after Miranda's warnings before this visit. Was it possible that Shepard had remembered after all?

They returned to the front room, one of Kaidan's favorites in the house. Wide open, a large fireplace that, especially this time of year, had a fire going nearly all day long, it gave the house a sort of old time mountain lodge sort of atmosphere. Surreptitiously, Kaidan kept his eyes on Shepard as she examined the room. She apparently didn't want to sit, which of course made sense after traveling most of the day, and so she was wandering around the room, investigating. James, he saw, took a seat in a nearby chair. Grinning over at Kaidan while Shepard was facing the other way, the younger man looked pointedly from Kaidan to the open sofa. Kaidan's eyes narrowed slightly, Vega's intentions clear.

"You've got a nice place here, Kaidan," Shepard told him a short while later as she finally moved around to take a seat on the sofa.

"Thanks," he replied, sitting down on the sofa but leaving some distance between them. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortably crowded at all.

* * *

Seeing James again had Shepard feeling a bit more at ease because quite suddenly … the rest of it was there. At least, he was: the memories of his oh so obvious flirtations, their 'dancing', even the intensity of that last chat they'd had in London. It was all there. Almost like a window that had been shut for the longest time had been thrown wide open to let it all back in. It was hard to explain, even to herself, but during the trip up, in which Miranda had alerted her that Vega would be here, Shepard had found herself thinking back over the basics. The missions they'd been on together, those sorts of things. The rest of it - the emotional investment that had developed between them during the months together on the Normandy - _that_ was what she hadn't realized was missing.

It now gave her hope that the other memories she had experienced on the drive up were real, too.

They talked for awhile as they sat in the front room, and Shepard found that with each word, a part of her was slowly returning. She likened it to an unknown haze or fog being lifted from her brain. And though she felt a bit dizzy from it all, now that she was coming to see all that she'd forgotten she wouldn't have stopped it. In some ways she found it to be like having a long, unsatisfied thirst finally quenched. Names brought back familiar faces and various levels of emotional attachments, certain events triggered shifts and turns in those levels … everything began taking on new meaning for her.

After several hours James begged off the discussion, claiming he needed to get sleep while he could since he wasn't currently at ICT. Shepard chuckled softly as she recollected her own days of training to be an N7. A good night's sleep was worth its weight in gold. With his departure, that left her and Kaidan alone … and a decision to be made.

Shepard turned sideways to face Kaidan while pulling a blanket he'd wrapped around her earlier more tightly around her shoulders. They were silent for a time, but it was a comfortable silence. No pressure for anything to be said or done. She did note then that the space between them had diminished somewhat. That observation led to her glancing up at his face and noticing a new intensity to his gaze. Her own eyes widened a bit in response, seeing it this close. It was the same look she remembered from her earlier memories. And yet … he made no move to touch her nor did he speak. He just sat there, watching her.

She wanted to say something, to figure out if her earlier recollections really had been that, but she was feeling overly cautious. Internally, she chided herself. _Where is the intrepid Commander Shepard? _an inner voice mused. _Fearless. Decisive. Leader extraordinaire who is in command at all times. Willing to risk everything, including her life, to protect the galaxy._ Her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands were currently twining and untwining together and she winced slightly. This had been the one tell she had that ….

"Shepard, are you alright?"

She realized then he must have noticed too. And remembered. Offering him a slightly embarrassed smile, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm … fine," she told him. Glancing back up, she saw him frowning a bit, eyes narrowed in concern. "What?"

"You just seem to be a bit … unnerved," he told her, hand gesturing towards hers. Starting to rise to his feet, he added, "If you want, I can just -"

Unconsciously, Shepard's hand darted out and grasped his, wrapping around it firmly, refusing to let go. "No, don't!" she begged softly. Tugging on his hand, she waited until he sat down beside her again, closer than he had been before. "Don't go," she whispered. If he was surprised by her actions, he didn't show it, instead settling himself comfortably beside her. She noticed his hand had curled slightly around hers, though he kept it loose enough should she wish to pull hers free. She didn't.

"I can stay," he quickly assured her. "Something on your mind?"

Her chest felt tight then. Just a subtle pressure, as if she was having trouble breathing, but nothing really bad. "Um, maybe?" she hedged, wondering just how she should approach this. The fact that he wasn't leaving, wasn't pulling away from her even, did give her some sort of hope that this was the right path to take.

He squeezed her hand once, gently, and settled back on the couch while telling her quietly, "Take your time. There's no rush."

_No rush …._

Shepard frowned. But that wasn't really true, was it? If indeed those 'memories' were true ones, they and others that had been peeking in all evening were enough for her to realize what had been missing for the past year or so. She'd already lost so damned much time during her life … she didn't want to lose anymore … "Kaidan …." Pulling her hand from his for the moment, she lifted both to cover her face as she tried to pull her jumbled thoughts and feelings together. When she lowered them again, she sent a silent prayer out to whatever god or gods might be listening and decided to take the plunge. "Did … did Miranda tell you about … me?" Her voice was soft, a bit halting as she struggled for words, but it was loud enough for him to hear. "About the extent of my injuries?"

"Mostly, yes," he explained. "She wanted me to be aware in case you have any physical issues while you're here."

She sighed softly then, shaking her head. "No, I don't mean that. I … there's …." She sighed again as she stumbled over her words. "She's been asking me things … almost like she's trying to provoke some sort of reaction." Shepard sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I've not really understood what she's been wanting … not until today, I think."

"Oh?"

She glanced over at him, hearing the curiosity in his tone. Biting at her lower lip, drawing it in between her teeth, she worried it for a moment before continuing. But it was the look of hope she saw shining in his eyes that gave her the courage. "I …," taking a deep breath, she pushed forward, "I was remembering things … _us_. At least, I think it was us. You, me, together … more than just -"

One hand reached for hers, his thumb rubbing against the back of it gently, the other traced the shape of her jaw as he tilted her head to hold her look. "It was more," he told her. "Much more."

Relief washed through her then and her eyes closed for a moment. She wasn't imagining things then. Opening them again, she lifted a hand to cover the one he still had at her chin which he then turned to take hold of hers. Tugging gently, he pulled her forwards, towards him and she went willingly. As she moved, the last pieces that had been puzzling her finally fell into place. Eyes not leaving his, she echoed the words she'd told him nearly a year before on the battlefield as they'd separated. "No matter what happens … know that I love you."

* * *

He nearly shouted for joy as he realized that Shepard had finally made the connection between them. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her, loosely should she wish to break free, but that didn't seem to be what she wanted just then. He held her gaze as she whispered the familiar words, ones that had haunted him from that moment until now. "Always," he added quietly, finishing her thoughts while tucking her against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "Until the end of time."

Patience and perseverance had paid off. The cycle was now complete.

* * *

**_Thank you to everyone who has followed this story. After serious consideration and discussion with my beta, I decided that the perfect ending to this story was here. I hope you have all enjoyed it! _**


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